


Waiting

by InnerSpectrum



Series: Mystrade is Our Division Prompts [16]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Mystrade Prompt Challenge, Mystrade is Our Division Prompts, Mystrade is our Division FB Prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 00:37:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16482749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerSpectrum/pseuds/InnerSpectrum
Summary: Mycroft waits for an exhausted Greg to come home from a tough case in the still of the night.





	Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> Written for: 
> 
> **Mystrade Prompt Challenge** (https://mystradepromptchallenge.tumblr.com/)  
>  Mystrade Prompt Challenge: HARD  
> Your dialogue: "Why won't you tell me?" and "God, I'm tired."  
> The circumstances... in the kitchen first thing in a morning  
> And you must mention... a family member
> 
>  **Mystrade is our Division FB Fic Prompts** | Dark

Mycroft, always a light sleeper - especially when his lover is not beside him, heard when the front door opened and closed. He opened his eyes in the dark bedroom. Greg had been on the case of a nasty homicidal maniac. Regrettably it took a few kills over a couple of days before Greg and his team to catch on to the killer’s time pattern between kills. His brother Sherlock had figured out the common denominator among each victim. The roles were reversed between them this time. It was Mycroft awake in the moonless night trying not to worry about his love running through the streets of London in the unforgiving night.

Greg had barely slept in four days. They figured out the next murder was due and laid in wait for him. They almost missed the killer who all but walked under their noses until Sherlock realized the man they were looking for was actually a woman.

Mycroft knew none of that yet as it happened while he slept. All Mycroft cared about now was listening for the sound of his husband’s footsteps as he climbed the dimly lit stairs to their bed and his waiting arms.

It was a sound that five minutes later still was not forth coming.

“Oh love!” Mycroft bemoaned knowing exactly what happened. "Why won't you tell me?"

Mycroft donned his dressing gown and made his way downstairs amongst the deep shadows of their home in the wee hours.  He was almost to the bottom step when he heard it. He followed the sound to the kitchen.

He followed the sound to an exhausted detective inspector who softly snored half slumped over the breakfast counter. The glass of water he had stopped to get moments away from tipping out of his slacked fingers.

Mycroft shook his head as he rescued the glass. They had a conversation about this not even a week ago.

DI Gregory Lestrade was one very independent and very stubborn man. Often driving himself home at ridiculous hours when he had no business behind the wheels of a vehicle. Mycroft had offered him a driver, but Greg had refused.

“Hey you.” Mycroft nudged Greg gently.

“My? Oh shite, I’m home? How…? Oh, Sherlock called sedan…” Greg’s words slurred as his bleary brown eyes looked up at Mycroft trying to focus on his surroundings and failing in the dark kitchen. "God, I'm tired."

Mycroft inwardly thanked his PA who knew to have a sedan on call for Greg just in case. He was grateful his brother knew to call. That Greg accepted it was a sign he was that exhausted. Mycroft draped Greg’s arm around his shoulder and boosted him up from the stool, “Come one, love. Let’s get you upstairs and in bed.”

It took some doing as Gregory was close to dead weight as they maneuvered upstairs. Fifteen minutes later Greg was out cold in pyjamas bottoms and a tee.  

Mycroft looked at the clock – 05:42. He shut off the alarm that was set to sound in three minutes, there was no point. Mycroft was ignoring it to get some of the sleep he didn’t get waiting for Greg and Greg was dead to the world for the next several hours, incapable of hearing the alarm even if he wanted to.

He sent a few quick texts to Anthea, then laid down and spooned around the warm body of his love to end their night as the first hints of dawn broke over London’s horizon to start the day.


End file.
